Yes’day, I was interviewing one guy, I forgot his name. His father was a doctor, his mother was a doctor. His elder sister was a doctor. And he didn’t apply for MBA, coz, he was repaying the loan for his sister for the past 2 years. He had brilliant record, call from B and but he was geeky. Too nerdy.
Too techie, his OS was free, so were his apps. He had got his SOP in that tiny acer thingy.
He was born n brought up in Bihar and what he said, about Bihar shocked me to the core. He said, he wanted to help his doctor parents and spread the awareness of snake bites etc. After seeing endless episodes on the most fascinating snakes, include king cobras copulating, I knew that most snake bites were not poisonous, something, that led me to walk anywhere without bothering too much while my friends used to fear a lot. I would always ask them, what is the probability of snake biting, and even if it did, what is the probability of it being poisonous. Even otherwise, you could always put a knot and get a ride till the hospital. I had seen 2 black snakes crushed to death on the road, very small baby snakes in the campus. For me snakes were Amba. My dreams are snake infested. And my snake dreams are scary always.
So coming back to him, he said, snake bites at times lead to paralysis and hemorrhage. In his place, there were so many quacks who had political backing. Whenever people got bitten by snakes, the quacks would treat the un poisonous bites but the really poisonous bites would coz so many deaths. Usually it would be too late, when the patients after trying the quack came to the hospital.
He said, there was not a single electronics instrument in his house that was not vandalized. The quacks’ supporters would come to his house and break up everything, so many times it seems. Oh man, I was shocked. He wanted to do something for the society, he was too much into social service and he was a technical god, but the sad state of affairs in Bihar, hurt my throat.
This morning, our macro eco, prof was telling us about Fiscal policy and the associated lags. He was saying, how when the rich people got happy or when the business sentiments were positive, they would go out for a treat and how when the poor people became happy, they went for a cup of tea. He was talking about sachet teas and shampoos. And suddenly, my throat started hurting. Every time, on the way to the railway station, memories keep coming back, making me feel so bad inside. I still remember the time, when I went home for Diwali. I was on the way to Egmore and there was this old lady, collapsed and crumpled on the pavement, with dirty ragged clothes, shriveled and bony. It was Diwali eve and she was still begging. Of course, begging is an organized business in India, never the less, to think, an old lady had to face such a life, shocked me, pained me.
This time, again, when I was there in AC Volvo on the way to majestic, there was this leper lady next to some car showroom, leaning with great difficulty to crush one of the 2 beedas she had, since she had no teeth. I remembered the bony thin old lady who came to deliver food for KV school kids, who said, a beeda was her lunch breakfast and dinner. How many people are below the poverty line and here people go for treat and spend 5k for 20 ppl for one dinner. Ask them to give something for yoga classes, they would not. All easier said than done.
My face is so expressive. If am happy, the whole world knows it. Everyone in office would always know, the Fridays I go home. If am sad, same thing. My father just reads my face like anything, that I can never lie to him. He will know by my voice. I still remember the pus filled leper on the way to isanya lingam in thiruvannamalai. We were on the last lap of the 18 km girivalam. I saw him, and I felt so bad, I felt disgusted to tell the truth. It was around 7 am and I was still walking. He saw my face and thought I was laughing. He said, “Enna sirikiriya papa. Paar un seer alinju poiyirum”. I didn’t actually laugh at him, come on, how could any one laugh at him? I was feeling so bad, I felt saddened by the state a human body was reduced to with leprosy and pus oozing out. It was so hot and he was lying on the hot sun.
There was a time when I went to Tnagar to shop. Same old Ranganathan street. Just near the busstop, there was this guy, young one, without limbs, quadriplegic. It was so hot. He was there bare bodied, with saliva dribbling down, with his begging bowl next to him. I passed him and after a while, I completely forgot him, in the shopping spree. Only later that night, that image taunted me. Even now it does. The begging organization in tnagar was cruel enough to put him like that under scorching sun after having chopped off his limbs as well.
The next aug 11, I had my car accident, that took away 18 months of my life. I think at times, was it coz of that thiruvanamalai lepers curse? Many a times, I wonder, I always stop with my thoughts, no action. My throat hurts, instead of offering someone support, I too start crying with their pain. I went just once to the gals orphan house. God, am glad, I have my parents to take care of me. I had to really control myself and not let the tears fall down in the macro eco class, thinking that there are people for whom tea is a luxury.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Brinjal and me
The first time, I had an aversion towards brinjals was when my sis, after her bio lab adventures, told me that the seeds inside the brinjals, looked like tadpole eggs. And I tentatively stopped eating brinjals. But later, kathrika pullikolumbu and kathrika ennakka, was irresistible and I started eating again.
Yes’day evening, I was seeing all the fwd mails and I found this naankadavul.zip. I was eating the apples given during afternoon lunch and here was this background music of omnamashivaya and agories’ disgusting video of the so called saamiyars, cutting human hand, sitting on corpses and meditating and eating putrid flesh fished out of rivers. That night, I had to attend H ppt and I ate pulliyodarai, for the sake of completing a job in a hurry to be on time for the meeting. This morning again, I ate idlies and vada, though vada didn’t sense good and the fact that the frying oil droplets in chutney were red in colour indicating, its reusage, kinda revolted me. This afternoon, I kept alarm at 1:45 to have lunch, to eat without appetite, just to finish the job of eating before the mess closed at 2 pm. I went to the mess, piled up 2 cups of curd, rice, sambar, raitha, there was this baigan bhartha or masala ennakka. I piled that up as well, got a phulka and sat down to eat. I had my first bite of the phulka with brinjals and the second, that the scene of the man, eating dead man’s flesh flashed. I got up with vehemence. Food was so revolting. I could not eat my lunch and dinner now. Later around 4 pm I had 2 lassies and chocolate pastries. Am glad, I was distracted by S while I was eating.
God, wish I could forget these things and go on. God, please, I should erase this off my mind. When so many are starving without food, wasting so much is wel... Think, i will go to mess, only when am absolutely starving.
Yes’day evening, I was seeing all the fwd mails and I found this naankadavul.zip. I was eating the apples given during afternoon lunch and here was this background music of omnamashivaya and agories’ disgusting video of the so called saamiyars, cutting human hand, sitting on corpses and meditating and eating putrid flesh fished out of rivers. That night, I had to attend H ppt and I ate pulliyodarai, for the sake of completing a job in a hurry to be on time for the meeting. This morning again, I ate idlies and vada, though vada didn’t sense good and the fact that the frying oil droplets in chutney were red in colour indicating, its reusage, kinda revolted me. This afternoon, I kept alarm at 1:45 to have lunch, to eat without appetite, just to finish the job of eating before the mess closed at 2 pm. I went to the mess, piled up 2 cups of curd, rice, sambar, raitha, there was this baigan bhartha or masala ennakka. I piled that up as well, got a phulka and sat down to eat. I had my first bite of the phulka with brinjals and the second, that the scene of the man, eating dead man’s flesh flashed. I got up with vehemence. Food was so revolting. I could not eat my lunch and dinner now. Later around 4 pm I had 2 lassies and chocolate pastries. Am glad, I was distracted by S while I was eating.
God, wish I could forget these things and go on. God, please, I should erase this off my mind. When so many are starving without food, wasting so much is wel... Think, i will go to mess, only when am absolutely starving.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Randomness and Rahu
Be it 4 am in the morning or 2 am in the morning, at times, I hear them arguing so loud. So what, if her father is one of the elite aristocrats in the traditionally posh localities of Bangalore? The first time, I saw a red IP in the bin, I was thinking, why don’t these marketers in those titillating ads ever point to the fact, that over usage of IP makes the gal not carry a child, in the long run. Okie she can adopt later on. One orphan will benefit.
I was reading about German doctors, who do free service in Kolkatta in this day’s Mint. And immediately, I remembered city of joy. I remembered the 7 months pregnant woman, who offered her foetus for a fee and the quack doctors just left her to die half way through the surgery when the police came. I remembered some doctors wala fiction, where a black American doctor was murdered with her foetus with scalpels, to make it look like, she wanted to do her own abortion or C-section. Am going to do analysis now.
At times I feel, every time a guy cries and pleads, the next step is going to be violent. I just hope, he does not resort to extreme measures. “Please tell me” and all the crap, yes or no and all those open ended and close ended questions. Okie, she is under rahu influence. I was always thinking, swathi, maham, anusham etc. are maha nakshathras and one could marry such girls without thinking twice. Currently she has Guru maha dasha and rahu bhukthi. Also she has kala sarpa dosha with rahu in the 3rd house of aries and kethu in 9th house of libra. She is pretty with moon in her 7th house. Mmm kinda fits, with my arakora analysis, should I call this confirming bias? But am wondering, about rahu in general. 3 examples should not form the basis for generalization for the rest of the world. I feel, parents should resort to the earlier practice of child marriages, based on analysis of horoscope, rather than letting children (okie 23-24 year old gal is not a child or is she?) seek out themselves. Think I will rather go to the library. I need to switch off and start preparing for my midterms.
And there was this case of the gal, who had virschika lagna with mars and Saturn in the lagna. She was so cute and pretty young just out of 12th standard. She was engaged to my team member, who became my TL after my ilizarov surgery. She wanted to study and her parents wanted her to marry him. And she committed suicide, by hanging. Her birthday was nov 2nd or nov 11th.
I was reading about German doctors, who do free service in Kolkatta in this day’s Mint. And immediately, I remembered city of joy. I remembered the 7 months pregnant woman, who offered her foetus for a fee and the quack doctors just left her to die half way through the surgery when the police came. I remembered some doctors wala fiction, where a black American doctor was murdered with her foetus with scalpels, to make it look like, she wanted to do her own abortion or C-section. Am going to do analysis now.
At times I feel, every time a guy cries and pleads, the next step is going to be violent. I just hope, he does not resort to extreme measures. “Please tell me” and all the crap, yes or no and all those open ended and close ended questions. Okie, she is under rahu influence. I was always thinking, swathi, maham, anusham etc. are maha nakshathras and one could marry such girls without thinking twice. Currently she has Guru maha dasha and rahu bhukthi. Also she has kala sarpa dosha with rahu in the 3rd house of aries and kethu in 9th house of libra. She is pretty with moon in her 7th house. Mmm kinda fits, with my arakora analysis, should I call this confirming bias? But am wondering, about rahu in general. 3 examples should not form the basis for generalization for the rest of the world. I feel, parents should resort to the earlier practice of child marriages, based on analysis of horoscope, rather than letting children (okie 23-24 year old gal is not a child or is she?) seek out themselves. Think I will rather go to the library. I need to switch off and start preparing for my midterms.
And there was this case of the gal, who had virschika lagna with mars and Saturn in the lagna. She was so cute and pretty young just out of 12th standard. She was engaged to my team member, who became my TL after my ilizarov surgery. She wanted to study and her parents wanted her to marry him. And she committed suicide, by hanging. Her birthday was nov 2nd or nov 11th.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Tejowati TriNAYANA lolakshi kamaroopini
There is so much to do, and am as usual watching movies. It is very rare that I watch a movie in full screen, I will be reading something in parallel or balancing my accts in other half of the screen, while I ffwd the movie for the actions and boring songs and watch the dance steps in those ridiculously fast and funny ways. This time, am watching Sorry Bhai in one half and Mauritius reminded me of my section mate’s honeymoon spot and I was googling it to see the island pics and then, suddenly Shabanas role reminded me of the most amazing woman I had met, I forgot her name, but she runs at least 2 beauty parlours in Chennai and she is from Sri Lanka.
There was this program on “Image building for corporate woman” or something like that. There were 17 of us, who went to this place past the Mylapore Bridge, nice posh daffodils hall, the usual place for these usual corporate training programs. It was kinda of raining that day, drizzling on and off and she came dressed in ivory white sari. There was something so elegant about her, so poised, so arresting. She snatched off one of the gal’s dupatta and said, you wear it this way. She showed us the colour combinations. She said, it is not her headache, if you get pimples it is because you are not careful. She said, people would come and ask her, if it helps to apply papaya and tomato on your face. I would rather say, eat them, rather than putting on your face. She spoke English in such a sweet Sinhalese way. She said how she saw us eating curd rice. Back there in Sri Lanka, women never had milk or curd in their food and she says we were lucky to have this. She said beauty was in how u carried yourself and all those gyan. She told these stories. When she was young, she stayed in the house where you could see the street below and the people walking on it. Every day, she and her mom used to see this handsome policeman. He was so handsome, that she and her mom, used to admire him so much and used to wait to see him from their balcony. Then when she was 18-19, that police man, came up to her house and asked her mom for Nayana's hand. Ya Nayana she is, Nayana is her name. Nayana was on cloud 9 and her mom was all ecstatic and said, Nayana should marry him, coz, he had asked her, before asking Nayana. Mom was all set for getting them married, but Nayana had her reservations. She told this story to make us follow our dreams. She wanted to be a hairdresser from the very beginning. Now she has more than 6 saloons in Sri Lanka and 2 in Chennai. She said, if she had married the policeman, she would have had to tag along with him, where ever, he got transferred and her dreams would have got shattered
She told how her rich husband ate chicken, nice hot pepper chicken. He and his friend would strip down to a loose lungi and sit down and eat chicken on a banana leaf. She said, the best way to man’s heart was his stomach. Don’t fight over, who has his or her way. She said, why bother, who has the remote. Let him have his way and u act the lady, gentle and dainty and he will lift the heavy groceries and do the hard jobs. Back home, of course, I didn’t have to act that way. Guess, right from the beginning, since Cheenu was there, he would never let me lift any heavy bag and I would be instead leaning heavily on him pulling his shirt and some point down the road, he would say, idho take my shirt, rather than tearing it away but I knew, that it was only till I let him have his way. Till this date, I don’t know, why he said to dad, he drank that whisky that I drank. That was the last time, dad got whisky in house. I loved presenting food. Even if it tea or coffee or plain water, it had be in that tray, beautifully placed. Even if it was sambar sadham, I used to present sambar sadham and curry beautifully decorated on the plate. But when he did it for me, the glass tumblers would have his dirty finger prints but I was glad. He would complain to mom, that I made him get water for me a dozen times, but though he complained, he got me water never the less. I was such lazy bones at times and had everyone ootify me rather than walk up to kitchen and serve myself. Cheenu was very protective and I started liking Scorpio guys because of Cheenu.
Back to Nayana, she had this beautiful way of doing things She had this 2 gold bangles and she said, I know, you are looking at these bangles. If you want something, go for it. She told this story of this guy, who pasted this picture of red Ferrari in his workplace cabin and she used to look at this picture every day and say, I am working for this. Next time, Nayana met him, the picture was not there and he said, look down and you can see the red Ferrari.
She said, she had 2 sons. One was in Australia, who was studying. She said, you need to prioritize and do things. I would often ask him to hire a maid, but he would not hire a maid. She said, cleaning the house, cooking was not exercise, unless, you broomed pretty briskly that you started sweating. I keep a maid, and ask her to prepare the dal and chapatti for dinner, while I take care of the clients. Spend time on things that are more productive she said.
Something, she said, after that, made me understand a mother in law’s perspective. She said, all these 20 years of my life, my son, would come home and come to me with ma on his lips. Now, when he comes home, he will go to another woman and I will have to prepare for that. I will have to share my son with some other woman.
She also, said, don’t sacrifice. If there is one egg, Indian mother usually gave it to her son. But if there is one egg, make an omelet and divide into 3 and share it. Show your son, how to share responsibilities instead of sacrificing every time. She was more than 50, but looked years younger. She is one lady I really admire. Back home, my mom, my periyamma, my grand mom, and my aunty everyone made up such creative lies to make us have the only glass of milk etc left. Gosh, wish mom had not made all those sacrifices.
She said, none of us, in the hall, wore any proper bras. She said, triumph was the only brand she wore. Years later, when I saw the rates, I decided, its better without any. She said, she came to tnagar to get her blouses stitched, because, there were no good tailors in Sri Lanka and we buy such costly saris and wear such ill fitting blouses. I was like thinking; someone taking flight to get her blouses stitched is so ridiculous. She said, she had 500+ saris and she has as many coloured petticoats. For me, it is the same one black acoba inskirt that I got specially stitched. For me anything, that does not fit in one small samsonite luggage used to get disposed when I shift, now thanks to my blazers, I have changed the policy to the bigger samsonite trolley. No more than one trolley of apparels. Why to hoard and wear something, once a decade? Why to hoard anything at all. Much before bhogi, I have started disposing everything, other than bare essentials.
There was this program on “Image building for corporate woman” or something like that. There were 17 of us, who went to this place past the Mylapore Bridge, nice posh daffodils hall, the usual place for these usual corporate training programs. It was kinda of raining that day, drizzling on and off and she came dressed in ivory white sari. There was something so elegant about her, so poised, so arresting. She snatched off one of the gal’s dupatta and said, you wear it this way. She showed us the colour combinations. She said, it is not her headache, if you get pimples it is because you are not careful. She said, people would come and ask her, if it helps to apply papaya and tomato on your face. I would rather say, eat them, rather than putting on your face. She spoke English in such a sweet Sinhalese way. She said how she saw us eating curd rice. Back there in Sri Lanka, women never had milk or curd in their food and she says we were lucky to have this. She said beauty was in how u carried yourself and all those gyan. She told these stories. When she was young, she stayed in the house where you could see the street below and the people walking on it. Every day, she and her mom used to see this handsome policeman. He was so handsome, that she and her mom, used to admire him so much and used to wait to see him from their balcony. Then when she was 18-19, that police man, came up to her house and asked her mom for Nayana's hand. Ya Nayana she is, Nayana is her name. Nayana was on cloud 9 and her mom was all ecstatic and said, Nayana should marry him, coz, he had asked her, before asking Nayana. Mom was all set for getting them married, but Nayana had her reservations. She told this story to make us follow our dreams. She wanted to be a hairdresser from the very beginning. Now she has more than 6 saloons in Sri Lanka and 2 in Chennai. She said, if she had married the policeman, she would have had to tag along with him, where ever, he got transferred and her dreams would have got shattered
She told how her rich husband ate chicken, nice hot pepper chicken. He and his friend would strip down to a loose lungi and sit down and eat chicken on a banana leaf. She said, the best way to man’s heart was his stomach. Don’t fight over, who has his or her way. She said, why bother, who has the remote. Let him have his way and u act the lady, gentle and dainty and he will lift the heavy groceries and do the hard jobs. Back home, of course, I didn’t have to act that way. Guess, right from the beginning, since Cheenu was there, he would never let me lift any heavy bag and I would be instead leaning heavily on him pulling his shirt and some point down the road, he would say, idho take my shirt, rather than tearing it away but I knew, that it was only till I let him have his way. Till this date, I don’t know, why he said to dad, he drank that whisky that I drank. That was the last time, dad got whisky in house. I loved presenting food. Even if it tea or coffee or plain water, it had be in that tray, beautifully placed. Even if it was sambar sadham, I used to present sambar sadham and curry beautifully decorated on the plate. But when he did it for me, the glass tumblers would have his dirty finger prints but I was glad. He would complain to mom, that I made him get water for me a dozen times, but though he complained, he got me water never the less. I was such lazy bones at times and had everyone ootify me rather than walk up to kitchen and serve myself. Cheenu was very protective and I started liking Scorpio guys because of Cheenu.
Back to Nayana, she had this beautiful way of doing things She had this 2 gold bangles and she said, I know, you are looking at these bangles. If you want something, go for it. She told this story of this guy, who pasted this picture of red Ferrari in his workplace cabin and she used to look at this picture every day and say, I am working for this. Next time, Nayana met him, the picture was not there and he said, look down and you can see the red Ferrari.
She said, she had 2 sons. One was in Australia, who was studying. She said, you need to prioritize and do things. I would often ask him to hire a maid, but he would not hire a maid. She said, cleaning the house, cooking was not exercise, unless, you broomed pretty briskly that you started sweating. I keep a maid, and ask her to prepare the dal and chapatti for dinner, while I take care of the clients. Spend time on things that are more productive she said.
Something, she said, after that, made me understand a mother in law’s perspective. She said, all these 20 years of my life, my son, would come home and come to me with ma on his lips. Now, when he comes home, he will go to another woman and I will have to prepare for that. I will have to share my son with some other woman.
She also, said, don’t sacrifice. If there is one egg, Indian mother usually gave it to her son. But if there is one egg, make an omelet and divide into 3 and share it. Show your son, how to share responsibilities instead of sacrificing every time. She was more than 50, but looked years younger. She is one lady I really admire. Back home, my mom, my periyamma, my grand mom, and my aunty everyone made up such creative lies to make us have the only glass of milk etc left. Gosh, wish mom had not made all those sacrifices.
She said, none of us, in the hall, wore any proper bras. She said, triumph was the only brand she wore. Years later, when I saw the rates, I decided, its better without any. She said, she came to tnagar to get her blouses stitched, because, there were no good tailors in Sri Lanka and we buy such costly saris and wear such ill fitting blouses. I was like thinking; someone taking flight to get her blouses stitched is so ridiculous. She said, she had 500+ saris and she has as many coloured petticoats. For me, it is the same one black acoba inskirt that I got specially stitched. For me anything, that does not fit in one small samsonite luggage used to get disposed when I shift, now thanks to my blazers, I have changed the policy to the bigger samsonite trolley. No more than one trolley of apparels. Why to hoard and wear something, once a decade? Why to hoard anything at all. Much before bhogi, I have started disposing everything, other than bare essentials.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Butterfly effect
It started with a one day trip i undertook alone through travels at the 11th hour. I was supposed to go with Nusrath. But i could not meet her and she had given up after waiting the whole day. I had to be with my brother at the railway station. That reminds me of the fine we had to pay, since i had not bought any platform ticket. All my life, i had never bothered about buying platform tickets. Since i mostly traveled alone. So after paying the fine, i was in a bad mood, and decided, whether Nusrath comes or not, I will go alone. I got the last seat in the tour bus. Luckily, i had a chinese gal and her blore friends to befriend. So it boils down the Tipu Sultan summer palace, i saw then. I read that Tipu recorded dreams. Back home, i didn't immediately start it. But i started jotting down my dreams as well regularly. Earlier, i used to jot down my dreams, only if it was outlandish, but now, the first thing, i do is write down my dreams to interpret the messages. That reminds me of Odyssey (or was it that?), the angels sent misleading dreams to the king, who acted accordingly and suffered. But why are not we not supposed to tell our dreams to any kasyap?
Okie coming back, the first thing, i do is mail even before getting out of bed, my bro and sis, my dream, if i don't have any exam or quiz that day. I have my end terms coming in 4 days and here i am wasting my time. I need to get back. Yes'day before i hit the bed, i was flipping through my diary that had entries from Aug 21, 2004. And it was like butterfly effect, as i read through my diary events and my dreams, it unfolded really. The reason, i had taken my diary was to sing along with the Aao na, song, especially the ga ga ri ga ga ri, ga ri ga ma ga ri stuff... and this dreams thing has cost me so many hours. And my dreams had continuation of the dreams i had years earlier. Butterfly effect indeed. You could go back in past into future, but lo, without choice, imposed on you.
Okie coming back, the first thing, i do is mail even before getting out of bed, my bro and sis, my dream, if i don't have any exam or quiz that day. I have my end terms coming in 4 days and here i am wasting my time. I need to get back. Yes'day before i hit the bed, i was flipping through my diary that had entries from Aug 21, 2004. And it was like butterfly effect, as i read through my diary events and my dreams, it unfolded really. The reason, i had taken my diary was to sing along with the Aao na, song, especially the ga ga ri ga ga ri, ga ri ga ma ga ri stuff... and this dreams thing has cost me so many hours. And my dreams had continuation of the dreams i had years earlier. Butterfly effect indeed. You could go back in past into future, but lo, without choice, imposed on you.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Funny things that i have done
I never believe in equality of men and women. Equality of people also. God has created everyone with a purpose, to fulfill their karma obligations and proceed to higher spiritual levels. I believe, everyone gets everything one wants in the end, if not in this janma in the next. These days, am so afraid of wanting anything in life. Am going to take life just as it comes with no expectations.
One of my section mates is getting married next week and all the institute gals made a video to be sent to his future wife and father-in-law which contained messages of how much each of the gals wanted him and felt bad that he was getting married. I was supposed to sob and say, how I was cheated and how sad I was that he was getting married. Another married section mate’s testimony was how disappointed she was that he left her, after she had left her husband for him. And so on.
All my life, it has mostly been guys asking and me escaping or carrying on for a while to eventually part and move on. The first and the only time, all my life, I ever initiated this crap was for one Oct 27 guy, even though I knew he was not my destined one. We had gone to M Engg college in final year for inter college fest, way back in 2002. It was past 4 pm and there was this face painting competition. Those were the days without mobile and I had no face to paint on. I was walking wearily towards to venue and suddenly he passed by and I kept moving on. Think god sent some signal; I turned back and asked him, if he would let me paint on his face. Yes, am very good at talking to strangers first time but I am never good at keeping in touch with anyone in the long run. He agreed. The venue was in the first or second floor. It was hot. Unlike Blore, Trichy is a hot oven. I was sweating profusely and I found I had 5 minutes before the competition started. I went and washed my face and found he was searching for me when I returned just in time.
So the event started and I appraised his charming face and painted his one side and the next side and went on to describe the theme and idea I was going to tell finally. Due to 6-9 Venus-mars combos, or I don’t know what, I kept stepping back once a while to gaze at him. I painted his eyes towards the end. He turned his face as I wanted and posed elegantly. He wore bright lemon yellow shirt that day and I had painted half his face white and half black with other things as well. Think, he was the college charmer as well. The gals who were the judges were flirting with him.
That evening, more than an hour later, he still had not washed his face and he came on stage for a dance with the face painting on. I was flustered. More than my painting, am sure, it was because he was the popular charming guy that I got the first prize that day. And I got one more first again, not for artistry, but for my wordings. It was 3 am when I reached home that night. Thanks to the actor who came late for distributing prizes. Phone was not working at home. Luckily there was one more gal from my place and I joined her father. Back home, my parents, would never bother asking, why I was late. If dad didn’t open the door, I would lie up in the terrace. But that happened just once.
For the first time, I lost my appetite, I tried to slim down, and I was more concerned with my appearance and was angry for the surgical scars and my legs. Ever since 1999, I had given up on my right leg due to the pain. He was the reason, I started to use my right leg to climb up stairs and it was a great joy to discover that I could climb up with both the legs. Later that night, I found my hands hurting, coz I used my hands for support. I had got his mail id and I simply could not get him off my mind. I kept mailing him all nonsense that I don’t completely remember. He replied. Probably he is the only guy in this whole world who called me a panni kutti, vaadi podi and I didn’t mind. I liked everything about him. He was unabashed in his replies. I told him about my caste and scars and he told me that he had an elder brother who was mentally challenged and he was the only hope for his orthodox grandfather. I had separate mail id created for his mails and 6 years later, I don’t remember the password or the id. I didn’t contact him after 2003. I saw him once on webcam, he was webcasting for his sister and I saw his elder brother. That makes me wonder about garuda puranam. Most of the mentally challenged kids that I see, are born as Brahmins. Some rule? I continued sending him bday mails and mailed for a while and as usual, I moved on. Even now, every year, along with poonam’s I remember his bday since they both share the same bday. Am wondering, whether it is a coincidence that my only school friend from 4th standard and he share the same b’ day. He was a moon Cancerian that reflected his responses.
I am very bad at concealing feelings, right from my mentor, to my lecturer, to all my college mates, and back home, he was the topic of my conversations. My lecturer was amused. My mentor told me his sad story after we called it quits.
He joined MTech in S and we had off campus there. I was again all excited all the way from home to his college and was hoping I would bump into him some time. But guess, life has other plans. So the point is, those were the years, when I was thinking, it is the guy who should propose. But in the video we took now, every gal acted so convincingly as to how much we “loved” V and didn’t want him to get married. In the long run, nothing matters. Even if a person gets married or loves, that is just a temporary phase dictated by planets. When the combos turn sour, so do the very same intimate relationships. I have seen people loving for 7 years before marriage and fighting and abusing each other physically, verbally later. What is the point? Some even resort to murder. Whats all this fuss about marriage and love? For something so temporary, so ephemeral. Except for those minority padminis and rare guys, are there any faithful guys left. Again, what is this selfish love that you feel for that one person that makes you kill another person to protect your loved one, or hate the rest of the humanity for treasuring that one love? Is it that, if in the previous janma more than one love one person, then in this janma, he or she might have two partners phased out. I remember Autobiography of yogi saying, love everyone, coz, you might never know, they might have been your fathers, mothers, kids, wives and husbands in the previous janmas.
If we could all love each other selflessly, and generated only positive thoughts, the whole world would be a beautiful and peaceful place without acts of such terrorism. It is because one lustfully or selfishly loves one person above this whole world that all the worlds’ sorrows arise. What gives one the most joy, creates the most distress in its absence. Is it true joy in the first place, if it was merely satisfied with senses? And if life now is not for gratifying your senses but abstaining from all this, what is then the big deal? Is it just escapism to shirk from your worldly duties and want liberation? What is moksha?
One of my section mates is getting married next week and all the institute gals made a video to be sent to his future wife and father-in-law which contained messages of how much each of the gals wanted him and felt bad that he was getting married. I was supposed to sob and say, how I was cheated and how sad I was that he was getting married. Another married section mate’s testimony was how disappointed she was that he left her, after she had left her husband for him. And so on.
All my life, it has mostly been guys asking and me escaping or carrying on for a while to eventually part and move on. The first and the only time, all my life, I ever initiated this crap was for one Oct 27 guy, even though I knew he was not my destined one. We had gone to M Engg college in final year for inter college fest, way back in 2002. It was past 4 pm and there was this face painting competition. Those were the days without mobile and I had no face to paint on. I was walking wearily towards to venue and suddenly he passed by and I kept moving on. Think god sent some signal; I turned back and asked him, if he would let me paint on his face. Yes, am very good at talking to strangers first time but I am never good at keeping in touch with anyone in the long run. He agreed. The venue was in the first or second floor. It was hot. Unlike Blore, Trichy is a hot oven. I was sweating profusely and I found I had 5 minutes before the competition started. I went and washed my face and found he was searching for me when I returned just in time.
So the event started and I appraised his charming face and painted his one side and the next side and went on to describe the theme and idea I was going to tell finally. Due to 6-9 Venus-mars combos, or I don’t know what, I kept stepping back once a while to gaze at him. I painted his eyes towards the end. He turned his face as I wanted and posed elegantly. He wore bright lemon yellow shirt that day and I had painted half his face white and half black with other things as well. Think, he was the college charmer as well. The gals who were the judges were flirting with him.
That evening, more than an hour later, he still had not washed his face and he came on stage for a dance with the face painting on. I was flustered. More than my painting, am sure, it was because he was the popular charming guy that I got the first prize that day. And I got one more first again, not for artistry, but for my wordings. It was 3 am when I reached home that night. Thanks to the actor who came late for distributing prizes. Phone was not working at home. Luckily there was one more gal from my place and I joined her father. Back home, my parents, would never bother asking, why I was late. If dad didn’t open the door, I would lie up in the terrace. But that happened just once.
For the first time, I lost my appetite, I tried to slim down, and I was more concerned with my appearance and was angry for the surgical scars and my legs. Ever since 1999, I had given up on my right leg due to the pain. He was the reason, I started to use my right leg to climb up stairs and it was a great joy to discover that I could climb up with both the legs. Later that night, I found my hands hurting, coz I used my hands for support. I had got his mail id and I simply could not get him off my mind. I kept mailing him all nonsense that I don’t completely remember. He replied. Probably he is the only guy in this whole world who called me a panni kutti, vaadi podi and I didn’t mind. I liked everything about him. He was unabashed in his replies. I told him about my caste and scars and he told me that he had an elder brother who was mentally challenged and he was the only hope for his orthodox grandfather. I had separate mail id created for his mails and 6 years later, I don’t remember the password or the id. I didn’t contact him after 2003. I saw him once on webcam, he was webcasting for his sister and I saw his elder brother. That makes me wonder about garuda puranam. Most of the mentally challenged kids that I see, are born as Brahmins. Some rule? I continued sending him bday mails and mailed for a while and as usual, I moved on. Even now, every year, along with poonam’s I remember his bday since they both share the same bday. Am wondering, whether it is a coincidence that my only school friend from 4th standard and he share the same b’ day. He was a moon Cancerian that reflected his responses.
I am very bad at concealing feelings, right from my mentor, to my lecturer, to all my college mates, and back home, he was the topic of my conversations. My lecturer was amused. My mentor told me his sad story after we called it quits.
He joined MTech in S and we had off campus there. I was again all excited all the way from home to his college and was hoping I would bump into him some time. But guess, life has other plans. So the point is, those were the years, when I was thinking, it is the guy who should propose. But in the video we took now, every gal acted so convincingly as to how much we “loved” V and didn’t want him to get married. In the long run, nothing matters. Even if a person gets married or loves, that is just a temporary phase dictated by planets. When the combos turn sour, so do the very same intimate relationships. I have seen people loving for 7 years before marriage and fighting and abusing each other physically, verbally later. What is the point? Some even resort to murder. Whats all this fuss about marriage and love? For something so temporary, so ephemeral. Except for those minority padminis and rare guys, are there any faithful guys left. Again, what is this selfish love that you feel for that one person that makes you kill another person to protect your loved one, or hate the rest of the humanity for treasuring that one love? Is it that, if in the previous janma more than one love one person, then in this janma, he or she might have two partners phased out. I remember Autobiography of yogi saying, love everyone, coz, you might never know, they might have been your fathers, mothers, kids, wives and husbands in the previous janmas.
If we could all love each other selflessly, and generated only positive thoughts, the whole world would be a beautiful and peaceful place without acts of such terrorism. It is because one lustfully or selfishly loves one person above this whole world that all the worlds’ sorrows arise. What gives one the most joy, creates the most distress in its absence. Is it true joy in the first place, if it was merely satisfied with senses? And if life now is not for gratifying your senses but abstaining from all this, what is then the big deal? Is it just escapism to shirk from your worldly duties and want liberation? What is moksha?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Western Ghatts with Mom
Inception
Well, it all started because of SGN. He described the beauty of Kollur Mookambiga and the idea for Sringeri came from YL amma. She was the one who suggested I go to Sankara matt, that lazy Sunday and the Vivekacudamani (it took me quite some time, to get the pronunciation right).
I was supposed to have gone with SGN on the weekend before summer placements, but it got canceled because of prasna with his guruji. And last weekend, my section folks were going unfortunately to Wayanad. If I had not gone this April, I could have gone with my friends now and had a galla time. Ok back to this weekend.
The trip
So how unplanned can one get for a trip? I was asking my roomie S, our hostel office uncle, couple of friends, Udipi seniors and at last, I decided, enough of this planning and left on the spur of the moment to majestic, without even looking at the bus timings in net. Mom could not cut office on Thursday for the KSTDC tour. I reached majestic at 5:45 and booked tickets till Sringeri and return tickets from Murudeswar for 23 November. Nothing else planned. The bus was supposed to leave at 8:45 and we had 3 hours. So I took an auto and went to ISKCON to kill time. It was the 5th time I was going, and it was the 3rd for mom and we were already bored with ISKCON. I could never sense the vibrations theere that i could feel in a small temple like Gavi Gangadhar temple.
Sringeri
So we took the ordinary bus to Sringeri and the road was so riddled with potholes at places. Somehow, both mom and I agreed that it was actually good for body, since the bus actually threw us up and down and since we were lying down, it actually, really helped me a lot. I had no pains of bus travel the next day. I dreamt of Shanmu’s mom who metamorphosed into my 5th class Saroja ma’m. I was half asleep and dreamt of sunrise.
We reached the temple around 6 am. From outside, it didn’t look like a temple at all. Some tin fences and a reception office. We were searching for a place to take bath and found the temple accommodation. The guy out there directed us to go to the temple reception. We took on the nearby lodge but there was no one there at the reception. So we walked back to the temple reception and found that reception guy, gave rooms only for those who had contacts. So we had to walk back and tried the lodges out there once more and later, we decided to walk to the other lodge a little bit far away and found the place was yucky and the charge of 450 disproportionate for the place. So we again made a first round and took bath in the free place. It was not so neat, not so disgusting as well. Water stopped while I was till brushing my teeth and came only after I had finished my bath. I found, I had forgot to pack my chudidhar pants and had to roam about in my grey jeans and sweat pants. Mom was not feeling good about this whole thing. There was no place to keep our luggage as well and we had to take it inside the temple, where it was clearly said, the temple is not responsible for the luggage. We left it at one sannidhi and took on to seeing all other temples.
Sringeri Temple
The best part was the unpainted Vidyasankara temple. The whole place permeated some kind of radiance that transported you to another plane. It felt so divine there. And we moved to the rivulet and found such big big black fishes which jostled against each other to gobble the little pori and biscuit that people threw. Man, I kept watching those fishes. It was as if the whole river was black with moss, which turned out to be these big black fishes. Mom said, it looked as if these fishes were bound by some promise.
Once we finished our darshan, we went out had breakfast at a place next to Maruthi bhavan, where the idlies were horrible and I left mom there to check out the bus timings to Kollur. We had the option to go to Horanadu, but I thought it would be overkill to tax mom. Besides my ex roomie had said, that the temple was not all that great. But yes’day my senior SB was saying, Horanadu beckoned him, it was such a beautiful place. And then I felt, yes, we should have gone there. So after making the enquiries, I dragged mom back to the temple where we crossed the bridge and went to the ashram were people came dressed in panchakajams and madisaar with lots of fruits for some pooja. I sat there, trying to read lalitha, and found I was soon distracted with the way people dressed and by the sexy legs of maamis walking like demure Japanese ladies clad in kimono. Think, it was not my praaptham to see Bharathi swamigal. I could have sat for almost an hour in that meditation hall kind of thing and found myself walking away, few minutes before Bharathi swamigal came in. There was big line of people waiting to see the seer. Guys were asked to remove their shirt by the security. I was amused to find “Beware of Snakes” instead of the usual warning. I wanted to see a snake. There were two elephants, undecorated. Mom said, they had so many scars because the mahouts had poked them with metal hooks, which I was not able to spot. We had our lunch at hotel in the first floor, which was again horrible and boarded the bus to Udipi.
Kollur Mookambiga Temple
The trip back to Udipi was nauseating somehow, with the bad road and the ghatts. I tried on lie on mom’s lap and it was a great relief when we alighted at Udipi. I wanted to see the temple here but found a Kollur bus was about to start. We sat in the first seat and after a long time, I found myself enjoying the way, in which the driver overtook and sped by, instead of experiencing heart attacks with every sudden brake. We reached Kollur around 7 pm and we found a room right in the bus stand for a mere Rs. 60 a night. It was spacious, clean and really good. We took bath and had a peaceful darshan and had dinner in the temple. Hot food and decent one on banana leaf for annadhanam. We returned to the room and I collapsed till 7 am. Mom was ready by the time, I woke up. We had apples first thing in the morning and again went back to the temple. I dragged mom to see the place, where Sugi was apparently swept down the shabernika river, when she was 18 months old. I sometimes wonder, whether this is linked to the fact that this is her last janma. The temple was crowded and we finished darshan.
Kodachadri
After temple, we found a jeep waiting to go to kodachadri, which just required 2 more people. We were told it was 150 per head and we were charged 175. We sat in the front seat along with the driver. We had a mallu family behind us and there was a wailing kid uphill. Downhill, it sang songs and that was good.
Once we reached a small brook, the driver got down and opened the jeep front windshield or whatever you call that and fresh cold breeze caressed us. Mom was instantly transformed. She exclaimed, hey look water. Hey look at this and that. I was glad for those moments. I really wonder how the guy drove the jeep. It was fabulous though. The view was awesome. I kept wondering, how come, there was so much of water logged between the mountains; it was like a river meandering between the mountains. Or is the water simply floating between these hilltops. At kodachadri, we walked up to ganesha cave, where Shankaracharya was supposed to have reached Kollur crawling through that cave. There was an 11 yr old Praveen who gave me a hand and acted the guide. Right at the beginning, mom stopped and said, no more, it took so much of cajoling to get mom up to the ganesha temple and later when the driver came to know, that we went only till the Ganesha cave, he was laughing that we missed the main parvatheswar 10 minutes further up. Well whatever, the view till ganesha temple was too good. The shadow of the clouds falling on the green hill tops, the strong gust of cool breeze, lush greenery all around, I felt like a bird flying high.
Bainoor-Bhatkal
It was 2 pm, when we came back to kollur busstand and the driver suggested Arya bhavan hotel, which served mallu lunch, that was too good compared to what we had been eating all this long. The moment, we came back to bus stand, there was bus starting for Bainoor. It was hot by then. At Bainoor, we took a van to Bhatkal. Who invented this thing - jam packed? It should be van packed. The last time, I traveled in such a van was in cognizant 1st year. The vans were later abolished following few kids’ deaths. There were 5 in the front, 4 in the middle and 5 behind, 3-4 next to the driver. We took another van to Murudeswar where, we sat near next to the driver.
Murudeswar
Murudeswar was good. It was not like going to temple, it was more like going to a beach. I quickly finished darshan to play in the sea water. We took on to the boat and missed sun set by matter of few minutes. It got dark so soon. Mom wanted to reach the water and found that water was not reachable since the boat parted water. It was the last trip and the boat was going to all other boats and the guys clambered to this big boat one by one. I felt, what if these guys were pirates and took on to knife and demanded money in the middle of the sea. Leave my paranoia. The guys were just jumping and shouting after a hard day’s work. Mom was in a hurry to board the bus at 7:30 pm. So at 7 pm, we moved away from the water and ate hot tasty parotta and green peas kurma in Bharath Bhavan which the auto guy suggested as pure veg hotel. He dropped us in a dark place stating that this was the bus stand. There was no current and it was pitch dark, past 7:30 and I was worried thinking, I had missed the bus. I tried calling up ksrtc customer service no. given behind the ticket, but no one answered. It was small bus stand, and I was wondering, whether the autowallah had dropped us at the right place. Luckily I found, there were other guys who were going to Blore waiting for the same Rajahamsa. That bus came close to 8 pm and we boarded it. Later it developed some problem with the crankshaft and with great difficulty, the driver got us till Shimoga at 2 am. After waiting for almost an hour, we got another bus and reached hostel at 9:30 am. Temple wise Shringeri was the best, convenience wise Kollur, but scenary wise Kodachadri beat them all. Back to studies now. Got test tomorrow.
Well, it all started because of SGN. He described the beauty of Kollur Mookambiga and the idea for Sringeri came from YL amma. She was the one who suggested I go to Sankara matt, that lazy Sunday and the Vivekacudamani (it took me quite some time, to get the pronunciation right).
I was supposed to have gone with SGN on the weekend before summer placements, but it got canceled because of prasna with his guruji. And last weekend, my section folks were going unfortunately to Wayanad. If I had not gone this April, I could have gone with my friends now and had a galla time. Ok back to this weekend.
The trip
So how unplanned can one get for a trip? I was asking my roomie S, our hostel office uncle, couple of friends, Udipi seniors and at last, I decided, enough of this planning and left on the spur of the moment to majestic, without even looking at the bus timings in net. Mom could not cut office on Thursday for the KSTDC tour. I reached majestic at 5:45 and booked tickets till Sringeri and return tickets from Murudeswar for 23 November. Nothing else planned. The bus was supposed to leave at 8:45 and we had 3 hours. So I took an auto and went to ISKCON to kill time. It was the 5th time I was going, and it was the 3rd for mom and we were already bored with ISKCON. I could never sense the vibrations theere that i could feel in a small temple like Gavi Gangadhar temple.
Sringeri
So we took the ordinary bus to Sringeri and the road was so riddled with potholes at places. Somehow, both mom and I agreed that it was actually good for body, since the bus actually threw us up and down and since we were lying down, it actually, really helped me a lot. I had no pains of bus travel the next day. I dreamt of Shanmu’s mom who metamorphosed into my 5th class Saroja ma’m. I was half asleep and dreamt of sunrise.
We reached the temple around 6 am. From outside, it didn’t look like a temple at all. Some tin fences and a reception office. We were searching for a place to take bath and found the temple accommodation. The guy out there directed us to go to the temple reception. We took on the nearby lodge but there was no one there at the reception. So we walked back to the temple reception and found that reception guy, gave rooms only for those who had contacts. So we had to walk back and tried the lodges out there once more and later, we decided to walk to the other lodge a little bit far away and found the place was yucky and the charge of 450 disproportionate for the place. So we again made a first round and took bath in the free place. It was not so neat, not so disgusting as well. Water stopped while I was till brushing my teeth and came only after I had finished my bath. I found, I had forgot to pack my chudidhar pants and had to roam about in my grey jeans and sweat pants. Mom was not feeling good about this whole thing. There was no place to keep our luggage as well and we had to take it inside the temple, where it was clearly said, the temple is not responsible for the luggage. We left it at one sannidhi and took on to seeing all other temples.
Sringeri Temple
The best part was the unpainted Vidyasankara temple. The whole place permeated some kind of radiance that transported you to another plane. It felt so divine there. And we moved to the rivulet and found such big big black fishes which jostled against each other to gobble the little pori and biscuit that people threw. Man, I kept watching those fishes. It was as if the whole river was black with moss, which turned out to be these big black fishes. Mom said, it looked as if these fishes were bound by some promise.
Once we finished our darshan, we went out had breakfast at a place next to Maruthi bhavan, where the idlies were horrible and I left mom there to check out the bus timings to Kollur. We had the option to go to Horanadu, but I thought it would be overkill to tax mom. Besides my ex roomie had said, that the temple was not all that great. But yes’day my senior SB was saying, Horanadu beckoned him, it was such a beautiful place. And then I felt, yes, we should have gone there. So after making the enquiries, I dragged mom back to the temple where we crossed the bridge and went to the ashram were people came dressed in panchakajams and madisaar with lots of fruits for some pooja. I sat there, trying to read lalitha, and found I was soon distracted with the way people dressed and by the sexy legs of maamis walking like demure Japanese ladies clad in kimono. Think, it was not my praaptham to see Bharathi swamigal. I could have sat for almost an hour in that meditation hall kind of thing and found myself walking away, few minutes before Bharathi swamigal came in. There was big line of people waiting to see the seer. Guys were asked to remove their shirt by the security. I was amused to find “Beware of Snakes” instead of the usual warning. I wanted to see a snake. There were two elephants, undecorated. Mom said, they had so many scars because the mahouts had poked them with metal hooks, which I was not able to spot. We had our lunch at hotel in the first floor, which was again horrible and boarded the bus to Udipi.
Kollur Mookambiga Temple
The trip back to Udipi was nauseating somehow, with the bad road and the ghatts. I tried on lie on mom’s lap and it was a great relief when we alighted at Udipi. I wanted to see the temple here but found a Kollur bus was about to start. We sat in the first seat and after a long time, I found myself enjoying the way, in which the driver overtook and sped by, instead of experiencing heart attacks with every sudden brake. We reached Kollur around 7 pm and we found a room right in the bus stand for a mere Rs. 60 a night. It was spacious, clean and really good. We took bath and had a peaceful darshan and had dinner in the temple. Hot food and decent one on banana leaf for annadhanam. We returned to the room and I collapsed till 7 am. Mom was ready by the time, I woke up. We had apples first thing in the morning and again went back to the temple. I dragged mom to see the place, where Sugi was apparently swept down the shabernika river, when she was 18 months old. I sometimes wonder, whether this is linked to the fact that this is her last janma. The temple was crowded and we finished darshan.
Kodachadri
After temple, we found a jeep waiting to go to kodachadri, which just required 2 more people. We were told it was 150 per head and we were charged 175. We sat in the front seat along with the driver. We had a mallu family behind us and there was a wailing kid uphill. Downhill, it sang songs and that was good.
Once we reached a small brook, the driver got down and opened the jeep front windshield or whatever you call that and fresh cold breeze caressed us. Mom was instantly transformed. She exclaimed, hey look water. Hey look at this and that. I was glad for those moments. I really wonder how the guy drove the jeep. It was fabulous though. The view was awesome. I kept wondering, how come, there was so much of water logged between the mountains; it was like a river meandering between the mountains. Or is the water simply floating between these hilltops. At kodachadri, we walked up to ganesha cave, where Shankaracharya was supposed to have reached Kollur crawling through that cave. There was an 11 yr old Praveen who gave me a hand and acted the guide. Right at the beginning, mom stopped and said, no more, it took so much of cajoling to get mom up to the ganesha temple and later when the driver came to know, that we went only till the Ganesha cave, he was laughing that we missed the main parvatheswar 10 minutes further up. Well whatever, the view till ganesha temple was too good. The shadow of the clouds falling on the green hill tops, the strong gust of cool breeze, lush greenery all around, I felt like a bird flying high.
Bainoor-Bhatkal
It was 2 pm, when we came back to kollur busstand and the driver suggested Arya bhavan hotel, which served mallu lunch, that was too good compared to what we had been eating all this long. The moment, we came back to bus stand, there was bus starting for Bainoor. It was hot by then. At Bainoor, we took a van to Bhatkal. Who invented this thing - jam packed? It should be van packed. The last time, I traveled in such a van was in cognizant 1st year. The vans were later abolished following few kids’ deaths. There were 5 in the front, 4 in the middle and 5 behind, 3-4 next to the driver. We took another van to Murudeswar where, we sat near next to the driver.
Murudeswar
Murudeswar was good. It was not like going to temple, it was more like going to a beach. I quickly finished darshan to play in the sea water. We took on to the boat and missed sun set by matter of few minutes. It got dark so soon. Mom wanted to reach the water and found that water was not reachable since the boat parted water. It was the last trip and the boat was going to all other boats and the guys clambered to this big boat one by one. I felt, what if these guys were pirates and took on to knife and demanded money in the middle of the sea. Leave my paranoia. The guys were just jumping and shouting after a hard day’s work. Mom was in a hurry to board the bus at 7:30 pm. So at 7 pm, we moved away from the water and ate hot tasty parotta and green peas kurma in Bharath Bhavan which the auto guy suggested as pure veg hotel. He dropped us in a dark place stating that this was the bus stand. There was no current and it was pitch dark, past 7:30 and I was worried thinking, I had missed the bus. I tried calling up ksrtc customer service no. given behind the ticket, but no one answered. It was small bus stand, and I was wondering, whether the autowallah had dropped us at the right place. Luckily I found, there were other guys who were going to Blore waiting for the same Rajahamsa. That bus came close to 8 pm and we boarded it. Later it developed some problem with the crankshaft and with great difficulty, the driver got us till Shimoga at 2 am. After waiting for almost an hour, we got another bus and reached hostel at 9:30 am. Temple wise Shringeri was the best, convenience wise Kollur, but scenary wise Kodachadri beat them all. Back to studies now. Got test tomorrow.
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